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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522353">The Sin Eater</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage'>AvoidingAverage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Jaskier, Dark Jaskier, Demon jaskier, Demonic Possession, Demons, Dream Sharing, Dreamsharing, Feral Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, Implied animal abuse, M/M, Mind Control, Mutual Pining, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:28:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23522353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvoidingAverage/pseuds/AvoidingAverage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“He doesn’t have much time now,” the demon observed, “Even Witchers need oxygen.  This is your only hope of saving him.”</p><p>Jaskier’s face went firm and determined, turning back to the creature with no sign of his earlier hesitation.   </p><p>The demon looked amused. “Are you sure he’d worth giving up so much?”</p><p>“All that and more,” Jaskier whispered. </p><p>Then he stepped into the circle.<br/>—————————<br/>To save Geralt, Jaskier lets himself be possessed by the demon he was hunting. Will there be anything left of the bard for Geralt to save?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>585</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This kind of happened out of nowhere as a plot bunny that wouldn’t go away. Expect lots of violent, dark Jaskier and an emotionally distraught Witcher.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt was a weapon honed by years of battle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew what it was like to face a foe that was stronger and quicker than even his reflexes. He knew how to use his age and wits to his advantage when brute strength was meaningless. He could plot and wait out the exact moment when his foe made their first and last mistake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But every Witcher knew there would come an enemy that was fast and smart enough to bring them down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He felt himself fly through the air a moment before gravity brought him down with a thunderous crash, slamming him partially through the rotted floorboards of the ancient alley. His body felt like one giant bruise and he allowed himself a moment to feel sorry for himself before slowly getting to his feet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Across the room, a dark shape shifted and writhed with wicked intent, malevolent even while trapped within the pentagram at its feet. It hissed at the sight of Geralt and the dark smoke flared around it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Witcher…” it whispered in a sibilant hiss that seemed built from the screams of the damned, “you are proving to be quite annoying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grunted and hefted his bloodied sword into position. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His first victim of the night was lying still and broken on the floor near a collection of grimoire and various spell crafting material. The fool had thought himself strong enough and capable of controlling a demon called up from the infernal planes. He hadn’t hesitated to murder one of the village girls to fuel his spell and Geralt felt no guilt in putting an end to his miserable life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The problem was he hadn’t managed to do so before the demon appeared in the summoning circle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It left him with few options but to kill the mage before he managed to strike a bargain with the demon. Killing the mage had resolved the immediate problem, but it was clear that it wouldn’t be long before it broke free from the wards binding it. Geralt just had to hope dawn broke before the wards did. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You killed my new body,” it hissed and sent a wave of magic that blew a hole through the side of the building. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt huffed out a laugh, hoping that encouraging the fiend to continue using its magic would weaken it faster. “Looks like you won’t be here long enough to grieve for your loss.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature shifted, its body fluctuating forms so constantly that it was difficult to watch. He caught the slide of scales ripping into dark furr before bright red muscle was exposed as the creature remade itself over and over again. It watched him with flat black eyes that reflected none of the lights of the torches. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Then it smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think you’re safe Witcher? Out there behind these wards?” It reached out a hand—bones gleaming as its finger broke and restructured into talons. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something grabbed around Geralt’s torso and he was slammed back against the rough stone wall, pinned by the demon’s magic. He snarled at it, fighting against the invisible hold. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All i have to do is wait for you to realize you only have an hour before you’ll be sent back to hell,” he said, grinning through bloodied teeth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hold on him shifted, pressing him more firmly against the wall until it was a struggle to breathe. “You think you can last that long against me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter,” Geralt panted, “You can’t stay on this plane without a body.” He jerked his head at the dead summoner, “And I just killed your only option for miles.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fact that Witchers were immune to possession made jobs like these infinitely easier. It wasn’t often that humans found the means to summon up one of the creatures from the infernal planes, but it was enough of a problem that all Witchers were warned against possession. He’d made sure to warn all of the townspeople to stay far, far away from the abbey while he dealt with the demon. Even Jaskier had agreed to remain in the tavern to while away the evening with song and drink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature shrieked in rage and sent him careening across the room to land in a pile of old pews. He had a moment to groan at the ache before he felt the demon’s power grabbing him around the ankle and dragging him through the rubble toward the summoning circle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grabbed at his sword with fumbling hands and slammed it into the earth, using it as a brace to keep himself from sliding forward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon’s eyes flashed. “You will </span>
  <em>
    <span>beg</span>
  </em>
  <span> for mercy by the end of this night, Witcher. And i shall give you none.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bold words from a creature trapped in a circle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It screamed in rage and Geralt hissed as he felt spectral claws sinking into the flesh of his chest. He cast Quen with one hand while the other tried to staunch the worst of the blood flow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I may not be able to breach these wards but i can bring you torment that has never been witnessed on this earth.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Torture me all you like—you still won’t have a body to possess.” Geralt braced himself for another attack, but the nebulous form at the center of the circle went still, as though it were listening to something. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then the demon smiled. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you so sure?” It asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt had enough time to look at it in confusion before he was being slammed back into the stone wall ten feet above the ground. One of his blades sailed through the air to impale his wrist to the wall, pinning him in place. He gave a bellow of pain and reached weakly towards the injured limb. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All thoughts of his own pain disappeared at the sound of that familiar voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Witcher turned his eyes toward the entrance to the abbey and gaped in horror as Jaskier stepped through the door, clutching his pure like it was a weapon and staring at the demon in horror. His jaw was set to assuage the way his body was trembling with the primitive need to flee from the horrors barely contained in the summoning circle. Brave, foolish, Jaskier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get out of here!” Geralt bellowed at him, panting through his pain and terror, “Run, Jaskier!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something tightened around his neck, cutting off his voice and leaving him to choke helplessly as the demon turned his attention to the bard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t listen to him, child,” it crooned, “Come closer.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it.” Jaskier’s fingers were pale with the strain of clutching the lute and the small dagger at his side, “Stop hurting him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon flicked a lazy hand in Geralt’s direction, unmoved by the sound of his choking. “Or what, my pet? Do you think that little blade will be enough to stop what even a Witcher cannot kill?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s eyes were bright with terror as he looked at Geralt. He continued to struggle weakly against the magic binding him but he knew it was useless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re a demon, aren’t you? Then make a deal with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s mouth opened in a silent protest that was muffled by the sound of the demon’s delighted laughter. “What do you want then, human? Fame? Women? Fortune? Love?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the last word, Jaskier’s eyes flicked over to the Witcher and Geralt felt his heart find a new rhythm in his panic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t do this</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he begged with his eyes even as dark spots began to fill his vision. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You must swear never to harm the Witcher, Geralt of Rivia,” Jaskier said in a clear voice. “You will heal him and let him go on his way in peace.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon eyed the human. “Such bargains can only be made with a price.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Step into the circle, bardling,” it said gently, “We shall seal our deal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt twitched against the magic holding him, feeling his strength fading quickly. His blood dripped to the floor in a gentle rhythm that matched Jaskier’s slow footsteps toward the summoning circle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At its edge, he hesitated and looked back at where Geralt was trapped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t have much time now,” the demon observed, “Even Witchers need oxygen.  This is your only hope of saving him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s face went firm and determined, turning back to the creature with no sign of his earlier hesitation.   </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon looked amused. “Are you sure he’d worth giving up so much?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All that and more,” Jaskier whispered. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he stepped into the circle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And the world went dark. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fair warning...this one is gonna hurt.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Long, clever fingers traced over Geralt’s face, making him twitch slightly at the ticklish sensation even as they moved on to scratch at his scalp until he was nearly purring.  Beneath his head, the familiar shift of muscle told him he was draped across someone’s lap like a massive cat. He pulled in a deep breath of cedar wood and meadowgrass.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier,” he purred.  Geralt smiled and kept his eyes closed, too lazy to move further even as he curled more protectively around his bard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>There was a note of fear in the bard’s voice that made him stir, frowning.  The hands in his hair tightened almost to the point of pain like the man was trying to anchor himself there.  A drop of liquid hit Geralt’s cheek and ran down the length of his chin before falling to the ground. He tried to open his eyes, but the movement felt like it took all of his strength.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt,” Jaskier said again and Geralt jerked when he heard the scream layered into the sound, “Geralt, you can’t blame yourself for this.  Promise me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowned, still fighting to open his eyes.  “Jaskier, wha--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Promise me you won’t try to find me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hands in his hair shifted to grab onto the fabric of his shirt like Jaskier was trying to hold on before he was pulled away.  Geralt reached out to try to grab onto him, but couldn’t seem to find a grip. He twisted, trying to find the source of what was scaring his bard so badly even as his mind seemed painfully sluggish.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Through sheer force of will, Geralt concentrated all his strength on opening his eyes.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And immediately regretted it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier leaned over him, hands still tight around the fabric of Geralt’s shirt.  His pale skin was nearly translucent in the gloom, making his blue eyes fever bright.  Dark streaks of liquid dripped from his eyes like tears and Geralt watched in horror as another drop left a long line of blood down his cheek.  His body looked painfully thin and weak, as though he’d been left without food and sunlight for weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt opened his mouth to speak, but Jaskier shuddered and made a sound of agony.  His eyes met the Witcher’s with a hint of desperation.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Geralt.  I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bard’s body began to fade and Geralt fought to hold onto him, finger clenching like he was reaching through smoke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Jaskier!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gera--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he was gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bright lights trickling in from the ruined ceiling slowly stirred him towards consciousness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt opened his eyes with a groan and blinked away what felt like a layer of soot and ash from his face, slowly sitting up and taking in his surroundings.  Despite the blood caked into every inch of his clothing and armor, he could move without pain aside from the stiffness lingering from a night spent in an awkward position.  He appeared to be the only thing in the room still in one piece judging by the heaps of old wood and stone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The scent of brimstone lingered and he found himself twisting to look towards the summoning circle like the demon might still be there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaskier</span>
  </em>
  <span> might be there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart began to throb in his chest at the reminder that Jaskier was missing too.  It was enough to get him to his feet and drag his sword out of the rubble. He stumbled over the uneven ground until he could reach the broken circle, now burned into the stones beneath like a brand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The body of the summoner was still splayed out nearby and Geralt resisted the urge to give it a kick when he went to retrieve the knife that had killed him.  If this fool hadn’t wanted more power for himself, Geralt would never have come to this town in the first place. Jaskier would be safe at whatever tavern they’d chosen that night and Geralt would fall asleep listening to the sound of the bard’s steady heartbeat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lips twisting in a scowl, Geralt forced himself to focus on the small collection of clues.  If he was going to hunt down the creature, he needed all the help he could get. There were a few old looking books mixed in with what was left of the spell materials and he picked them up carefully, scanning through the mixture of Elder words and symbols.  If Jaskier was here, he would already be teasing Geralt for his failure to learn Elder like a good scholar.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You were too focused on sharpening your swords to sharpen your mind, he’d say with a smirk.  It’s a good thing you’re so handsome that no one notices.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt banished the image that caused a pang in his chest and took a deep breath.  He knew what possessions did to humans. In all his long life, he’d only seen a bare handful of people walk away from a demon’s grip.  Even fewer chose to continue when memories came back to haunt them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought of the reckless boy who’d chosen to follow the Butcher of Blaviken on an adventure and fought back the urge to scream with the knowledge that no matter what he did…</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That boy was dead the moment he stepped into the circle.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt made his way back into town because it was all he could think to do next.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Roach would still be in the stables at the inn with the rest of his gear.  If he was lucky, the demon might have taken Jaskier’s body past the tavern on his way out.  He knew it was a long shot--the creature could have just as easily opened a portal to a new location--but Geralt had to have some kind of hope for recovering Jaskier.  All he needed was a chance to make this right again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he walked, he reviewed all the knowledge he had about demons and their hosts.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A demon could access their magic on this plane so long as they kept their human host alive and well enough to function.  It meant the creature was deadly as soon as he stepped inside Jaskier’s skin. The only positive about the situation was that now the creature would be forced to keep Jaskier alive as long as he wanted to remain on earth.  Whether or not that would be a good thing in the long run depended on how quickly Geralt could remove the spirit from the bard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Worse was the fact that Jaskier would be aware of everything the demon did while he was in control of his body.  It would be like watching from a distance while his body spoke and acted at the creature’s command. Likewise, Jaskier’s mind and memories would be defenseless against the demon.  Everything the bard knew would be used to torture and break him in the most diabolic ways.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were malignant spirits, gaining pleasure and power from the misery of others.  If they could not find other people to drive insane, they would turn on their hosts just as easily.  There were many ways to torment Jaskier without actually harming his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt intended to free him before that happened.  Even if he had to drag the demon back to hell with his bare hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the edge of the village, Geralt slowed his advance and looked around carefully.  The streets that had been full of farmers and villagers were empty despite the late hour.  By now, most of them should be out in the fields or in the marketplace to prepare for their daily tasks.  He strained his senses for some sort of sound to indicate there were people around and frowned when he found nothing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Heart pounding with a new fear, Geralt jogged the rest of the way to the tavern where he’d left Roach.  He’d barely made it around the corner when the smell of sharp iron and the brine of fear hit him like a blow.  Even without a Witcher’s senses, anyone would recognize the scent of death. He sprinted the last few steps and slammed open the door to what was once a bustling tavern. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The walls were blackened in sprays of rusted and drying blood, casting shadows where once there was light.  The scent of terror and pain hovered in the air like a miasma and he pressed a hand to his nose to resist the urge to turn away from the massacre.  It was only the thought of missing a clue that could lead him to where Jaskier had been taken.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What had once been a well-maintained tavern now looked like a scene from a soldier’s worst nightmare.  Glass crunched under his feet as he stepped over a farmer’s outstretched hand and assessed the damage. There were at least ten bodies in various states scattered around the room.  A few had been gutted and left to die slowly against the wall--he could see where they had dragged themselves towards the door in a futile attempt to make it outside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another had been pinned to the wall with two of the kitchen knives that had once been stored behind the counter.  Long lines had been carved over his chest, designed to hurt but not kill. A deep slash across his neck had finished him off when the demon grew bored of drinking in his terror.  More signs of torture marked several of the other bodies and he tried not to think about how long the demon had been allowed to linger here while Geralt was still unconcious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stepped over the remains of one of the wooden tables and scanned the room for some sign of Jaskier.  It was too much to hope that the bard wouldn’t travel far while the demon was in control. Now he would have to live with the memory of these deaths for the rest of his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of a soft breath made him pause in the center of the room.  He strained his ears, slowly backtracking to the area behind the bar. One of the crates that had been used to store the bottles of alcohol had been disturbed and he crouched down beside it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He reached out and carefully pushed the crate to the side to reveal the shivering body of a young girl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stared at him with eyes gone wide and dark with shock.  Her hands were wrapped tightly around her body like it was the only way to hold herself together.  A smear of blood ran down one cheek from where one of the bodies had dripped through the cracks in her hiding place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something soft and fragile inside Geralt broke at the sight of her in the middle of this nightmare.  He held out his hands to show he was disarmed, moving slowly to keep her from being frightened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to get you out of here,” he murmured.  “Somewhere safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She watched him with the eyes of a creature caught in a trap when he reached for her, but didn’t fight him.  He pulled her free as gently as he could and covered her eyes with one hand before he stood. “Don’t look.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt carried her out of the tavern as quickly as he could, not stopping until the scent of blood was covered by the soft breeze and summer air.  She’d begun shaking in his arms with adrenaline and he tightened his hold on her, protective. He was no good at comforting others--that was Jaskier’s talent--but he could at least ensure that she reached safety.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of several shouts of alarm made him look up and shift the girl’s weight until he could reach for the sword hanging on his back if necessary.   Several villagers carrying axes and tools of their trade like weapons raced up the hill toward him, slowing when they saw the girl he carried.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Witcher,” one of the women called cautiously, “have you captured the creature responsible for the deaths in the village?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s hands tightened around the girl at the reminder.  “No,” he said, “I was unable to keep the demon from possessing another.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could hear their murmuring and curses from the rest of the group, but ignored them in favor of gently setting the girl on her feet beside the woman.  “She’s not hurt, just in shock. Can you make sure she finds her family?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The woman nodded and reached for the child, but the girl grabbed Geralt’s sleeve when he began to leave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re his Witcher?” she whispered with a voice that had gone hoarse from screams.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt froze, body stiff with a mixture of dread and hope.  “Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The village woman moved closer protectively, but the girl only stared at the Witcher with a blank expression.  When she spoke, Geralt felt his heart drop to his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He said not to follow him,” she repeated.  “He said that each time you try to retrieve your bard he would break another piece of him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stared at her, barely able to hear over the roar in his ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s your fault that all of those people died, Witcher.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oof.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Nearly a year later and I'm finally getting this puppy updated.  This chapter is dedicated to the sweet commenters that kept the faith even when I seemingly abandoned this.</p><p>TW: Referenced animal death.  Jaskier is also very, very evil in this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“It hurts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sound of Jaskier’s low, mournful voice made Geralt jerk, twitching feebly in the darkness around him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt, it hurts,” the bard said again, voice cracking like he’d been crying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s heart threatened to crack along with it.  He could almost smell the heartache and pain marring the bard’s usual sunshine scent.  Worse was the exhaustion that had settled into his every syllable and translated into the feeble twitches of the fingers in Geralt’s hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he concentrated, he could feel the faintest impression of Jaskier’s thigh beneath his cheek as though he’d fallen asleep with his head in the bard’s lap.  It was something they’d never dared to try in reality.  Something he was sure was a sign that his mind recognized how close to breaking he was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here, at least, he could curl himself around Jaskier to shield him in a way that he hadn’t managed to in real life.  He could wrap his arms around the bard’s slim waist and bury himself in a sensation a dark part of him knew he’d lost forever.  Here he could say the words he’d never been brave enough to say out loud until it was too late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Jask,” he breathed out, pretending he didn’t feel the way his voice trembled, “I should have saved you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt?” Jaskier sounded painfully lost, like a drowning man begging for a rope to be cast out to them.  “Geralt, I can’t see you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here.  I won’t leave you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wished it didn’t feel like a lie.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took him days to track the demon possessing Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d been reeling from the message the demon had left for him and the understanding that what the girl had said was true.  Jaskier would never have come into contact with the demon if he hadn’t been trying to save Geralt.  Every life lost in that tavern was a mark against his own soul, another nightmare to add to his nightly torment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Worse was the knowledge that Jaskier would never see it that way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The creature seemed to slow its rampage after its grisly message for Geralt.  It was possible that the massacre had appeased some of its bloodlust, but the Witcher doubted it.  More likely the demon was smart enough to know that if it continued killing so openly it would attract more Witchers--ones that wouldn’t hesitate to kill the bard if it meant stopping it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just the thought of one of his brothers or a Witcher from another school setting their sights on Jaskier was enough to make Geralt sick.  He knew that Vesemir or any other Witcher would look at the long list of the victims and see the bard as a decent price to pay to ensure the demon could not continue.  So long as he continued to possess a human host, the demon could be killed or banished back to the infernal realm it came from.  The faster solution would be to destroy the host and force the demon to make the same choice it had when it took over Jaskier’s body--find a new host or go back to where it came from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Geralt’s task to try to find some way to separate the demon from Jaskier without hurting the bard even more--something that seemed more like a fever dream with each passing day.  He was barely sleeping now, preferring to continue to try to translate pieces from the books he’d taken from the dead mage while Roach rested.  He was already pushing her into a punishing pace and worried that doing more would leave her lame and him without a way to continue his hunt.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The books were a gift and a curse.  On one hand, he’d learned just how the mage had thought he would hold the demon after summoning it, but he still wasn’t sure how to capture the demon in a way that would prevent it from attacking Geralt like it had before.  Even more pressing was finding a way to break Jaskier free from its hold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It would be easier if he could go to Yennefer for help untangling the mess of notes and half-written spells.  She might be able to help ensure the binding ward he’d found circled in one of the chapters would be strong enough to keep the demon in place long enough to save Jaskier.  Unfortunately, he was more afraid that the time it would take to find her would mean losing the demon’s increasingly faint trail.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he forced himself not to rush to Jaskier’s side without a plan or ensuring he didn’t fall to the same mistakes that had killed the summoner.  Along the way, he found a few mages who were willing to explain the scribbled writings of the dead summoner as he tracked the barely-there trail the demon left.  Each clue made it harder to believe that Jaskier would be salvageable by the time Geralt found him again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A meadow full of skinned hares that still twitched thanks to the hearts that continued to beat in their chests.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A barn burning merrily to char.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fruit rotting on the vine in sickening heaps.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each clue felt as satisfying as swallowing lead.  It meant that Jaskier was alive, true, but Geralt didn’t want to contemplate how much the bard was conscious of while possessed.  There was no way to save Jaskier from the knowledge of what his hands had done as it was.  It was a weak hope to cling to that maybe he would be able to save Jaskier from anything worse than what had already happened to him while his body was not his own.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was another week before he felt like he had any hope of trapping the demon without harming Jaskier until he could figure out a way to separate the two. Two more day until he was close enough to guess where the demon was heading to next, even if it should have come as no surprise.  Oxenfurt was the perfect place for a bard to go hunting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All that was left was for him to devise a trap clever enough to fool a demon.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the end, finding something intriguing enough to lure in a demon is horrific in its simplicity.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>First, he found an abandoned hay barn at the outer edge of the next city he anticipated the demon would go to next.  Then he convinced the town’s mayor (see: threatened) to keep as many people as he could manage away from the building.  Geralt had no intention of allowing the demon to have any fragile humans to use against him.  Again.  Fuck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next bit of his plan was entirely reliant on Claire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire was a wide hipped, broad shouldered woman who had the look that only females who’d been dealing with idotic men their whole lives could manage.  She’d taken one look at the sheepish Witcher before grunting that he’d need to pay double before she’d even consider doing anything weird with him.  Apparently playing bait for a demon possessed bard was not something she’d experienced even in all her years of service.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It took a truly nauseating amount of gold to convince her to dress herself in a white gown and kneel beside the makeshift altar he’d created in the barn.  He’d hunted for a brace of plump hares and even placed a few bleached skulls of various creatures he’d scavenged to make the necessary components of the spell.  He was no mage, but he’d been around enough to be able to set the stage for something that looked impressive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The full moon above them helped ensure that there was plenty of light to illuminate the figure of Claire crouched over the pungent smelling flames near the altar.  Herbs and medicinal plants were carefully arranged in bowls near the mortar and pestle set on top of a wooden chest.  Blood from the rabbits acted as ink for the spells she’d carefully copied onto the wooden slats of the barn’s walls.  Symbols for fertility and power--everything that would tempt a human to dally with the unholy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More importantly, the smell and fanfare of Claire’s ‘spell’ covered the circle he’d meticulously carved into the ground and covered with the sweet smelling hay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt was forced to wait in the hayloft, praying to gods he’d long forgotten that it would be enough to attract the demon possessing Jaskier to follow the sounds of Claire’s spells and sacrifice.  And that he wasn’t dooming Claire to the same fate as the demon’s first victims.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Protejează-mă de legăturile timpului,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Claire intoned below him with enough aplomb to impress any stage actor.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Dăruiește-mi ceea ce îmi doresc, vechi.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ancient ones?” A familiar voice said from the door to the barn.  Claire gasped and turned in time to see Jaskier’s form step across the floorboards with a prowling gait that was nothing like the bard who had followed Geralt for so long.  His smile was the same though, rakish and mischievous enough to tempt a saint from their throne.  “Why would they help you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stood, knocking over the bowl of blood that she’d been using for ink.  “W--who are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should be asking what I am capable of, little witch,” he purred.  “After all, you wouldn’t be crying out so sweetly if you didn’t want something that no mortal means could provide.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The fire burned brighter as the wood shifted, illuminating the body of Jaskier as it stood silhouetted against the night.  He wore a dark doublet that gleamed wetly in the light like it was freshly dyed by the deepest pitch.  His fingertips were stained nearly black and matched the streaks along one side of his jaw--like he’d forgotten to wash it away.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt tried not to identify what the liquid was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You...can help me?” Claire was doing an admirable job of luring the demon closer.  He just had to hope she wouldn’t do something dumb--like bargain with it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Help is such a complicated term,” it said with a smile that didn’t reach its eyes.  “I prefer an equal exchange instead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What would you want from me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That depends.”  It prowled closer and Geralt found himself holding his breath.  The creature was getting too close to her now.  She needed to get out of here.   Below him, the demon took no notice of his silent pleading for Claire to leave.  “What are you willing to give me, little witch?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire’s eyes widened as it moved closer and he saw her eyes drop to the hidden edges to the trap they’d created.  It was fleeting, barely more than a flicker, but it was enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon paused with his foot little more than an inch away from the outer edge of the trap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt felt his heart drop as the creature tilted his head like he was listening to something that even the Witcher couldn’t make out.  It tapped one bloodied finger against his cheek and hummed thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naughty girl,” it murmured.  “Are you trying to trick me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was murder lurking beneath each word and Geralt watched Claire’s face go pale as the bones of the animal skeletons scattered around them.  “I--I don’t,” she stuttered, “I didn’t--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, you don’t possess the skills to manage such a thing.”  It walked around the edges of the rune carved into the wood beneath its feet.  “This is far too complex for a simple little bar wench like you, Claire.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Claire flinched at the sound of her name in the creature’s mouth.  “How did you--?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, darling, don’t insult me.”  The grin it sent her way had enough of Jaskier in it that Geralt felt his heart lurch in his chest.  “Your fumbling attempts at spellcraft are almost as disappointing as your lackluster attempts to trap me.  It screams of something someone who’s been lying on their back for scraps of affection since you were a teen would never be able to manage on your own.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Each word was sharper than the last, destroying any semblances of the sweeter bard lurking beneath its features until tears dripped from Claire’s wide, shocked eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It makes me wonder, dear Claire, if any part of this farce was your doing,” it said.  “But who would be so stupid as to give away your life so easily?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She took another step back, instinctively trying to get farther away from the man across from her.  Her eyes darted around the space for some kind of escape, inadvertently putting herself closer to the edge of the trap and whatever protection it could offer her.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were running out of time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes,” it drawled and blue eyes slowly moved up to the hayloft where Geralt was meant to be out of sight.  “Geralt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t wait for the demon to get its hands on Claire.  He leapt from the hayloft with his hands already twisting into a familiar sign.  He didn’t bother to reach for the weapons still strapped to his back--there was no way he could risk hurting Jaskier, but he wasn’t without the tools necessary to harm the demon within his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His Aard rocked the demon back several feet, but wasn’t enough to knock him off his feet.  It hissed out a curse and he hated the way it sounded like Jaskier even then.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Forgive me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he whispered to the bard trapped behind the soulless blue of the demon’s eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The potion bottle in his other hand caught the demon across its chest, splattering the liquid inside across unprotected skin.  It caught against the skin and flared red like a burn.  The creature screamed in pain, it’s voice wavering between a bard’s expansive range and the shrieks of the damned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt pressed his advantage and sent another blast of magic against the creature.  “Claire!  Go!” he bellowed as the demon regained his footing and lunged forward once more.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Now!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s body slammed into his with none of the gentleness that he’d come to expect after years of traveling the Path together.  The hands that had soothed and cleaned the injuries left behind by each hunt were now curved into claws that raked against his skin.  The voice that had crooned soft, wordless tunes until the potions that turned Geralt’s body into a living weapon hissed threats and terrible promises as they clashed bodily against one another.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stupid, foolish beast,” it growled into Geralt’s ear, “Did you think the boy’s promise would be enough to save you from me?”  There are so many ways to learn what true pain is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt grunted as he shifted his weight with his arms still wrapped around the smaller form, throwing himself bodily backwards.  It caught the demon off guard enough that it was unable to prevent the Witcher from using the slight difference between the two of them to his advantage.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The trap snapped with a burst of ozone scented air and a sharp pulse of power.  Geralt had enough time to roll out of the blood soaked circle before the demon roared loud enough to make the roof timbers rattle.  He winced, covering his enhanced ears to avoid rupturing his ear drums.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just as abruptly, silence fell in the hay barn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a soft snort of laughter--painfully familiar--and then Jaskier’s voice lilted through the air with none of the irritation Geralt knew was hidden behind his smile.  “Well, Geralt, I must say I’m impressed, “ he said, “I never thought you’d go to such lengths to kill a man who thinks you’re his friend.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to save him,” Geralt said staunchly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This time the laughter was genuine enough to grate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t really believe that, do you?” </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope you liked it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is definitely getting darker than I'd originally thought, but demon Jaskier is not a nice man.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt forced himself to focus on the task at hand instead of the gnawing desperation that had kept him upright and moving for that last week.  He walked over to the wooden boards, grateful that the carvings were still intact so he could be sure the circle would hold.  He couldn’t risk losing sight of the demon before he was able to separate it from Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon made a show of stretching leisurely, looking as though this was something that happened on a regular basis.  For all Geralt knew, it might not be the first time it had been caught or trapped within a circle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not much of a talker, are you?” it asked, watching Geralt with eyes gone liquid black.  When the Witcher glanced back at him, it tapped the side of his head.  “The bardling’s memories are an open book.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt’s lips twisted at the thought.  Despite Jaskier’s public persona of a philanderer, he was staunchly loyal to his friends--the Witcher most of all.  He noticed the things Geralt had never thought to say aloud and had spent years breaking through the surly wall behind him.  Even after the mountain, Jaskier had never told anyone the truth of what life traveling with a Witcher had been like. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, years after being reunited, Jaskier and Geralt had grown into the feelings of friendship and comradery that had tempered their earliest years together.  They trusted one another. Jaskier’s friendship had become the bedrock of Gerealt’s world--something he had fought hard to preserve even at the cost of his own feelings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought of some strange, malignant spirit being able to flip through Jaskier’s inner thoughts without his consent and to use against him was horrifying.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?” it almost sounded pitying. “The butcher and the bard. Only—he isn’t just a bard anymore. His hands are just as stained as your own now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That was you, not him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe...but no one else knows that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt tried not to think about what would happen if people began to connect the bard Dandelion to the widespread violence and murder that had happened since he’d been possessed.  They would be lucky if no one attacked or arrested him on sight.  Even worse, Jaskier couldn’t just wait out the worst of the rumors like Geralt had after Blaviken.  He didn’t have the long lifespan to waste.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon prowled closer.  “Although I’ll admit the bard is simply a means to an end and hardly worth the effort,” it said, “It really is a shame that a Witcher is warded against possessions.  You’d make such a delicious little body for me.  Your kind is so far more durable than paltry humans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you try then?” Geralt dared, “If you really want me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Want you in what way, darling?”  Jaskier’s head tilted to the side, black eyes glinting strangely in the faded light.  “Don’t get me wrong--both involve ropes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt went still, breath trapped somewhere in his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d expected threats, even violence--not standing across from the body of the man who’d been his only companion for years.  He wasn’t used to seeing Jaskier’s face so impassive, so uncaring.  Jaskier was meant to be in motion, animated as the songs he spun with his fingertips.  He should be laughing at the bar or teasing a blush out of the surliest tavern wench.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, now I see.”  A slow smile split the creature’s face.  He prowled closer, walking along the edge of the circle until he was only a few inches away from Geralt.  “You know, you’re the first Witcher I’ve ever met.  Though even my kind has heard the stories.  You’re meant to be the ultimate warriors--vicious, unstoppable, and unhampered by the same emotions that so many humans get tangled in.  But that’s not true, is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stared at him and tried not to think about the noose he felt tightening around his neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no.  I think we both know that it’s not the lack of feeling that has you here looking so pathetic.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here to save my friend,” he tried, but the demon only shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that what you really want?” This time the voice was something Geralt was familiar with.  It was the same purr he heard through the walls of too-thin tavern rooms mixed with the sounds of passion.  Jaskier’s long eyelashes lowered into a sultry look that the Witcher had never dared to hope would be directed at him.  “Perhaps we could come to some kind of agreement.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt watched the demon drag his hand down the front of his chest in a slow caress and felt himself go cold.  “Stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be boring, Geralt.  We both know you want this.  It’s a specialty to know what someone truly desires.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not,” it agreed, “but I know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> wants.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is between you and me,” Geralt hissed with a growing sense of alarm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your little bardling has </span>
  <em>
    <span>so many</span>
  </em>
  <span> desires within him.  It’s almost difficult to choose one.”  It licked its lips in a lewd display, reaching up to tug open the laces of Jaskier’s stained doublet.  The gesture revealed the long line of his throat and the fine dusting of dark hair on his chest.  “You can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>imagine</span>
  </em>
  <span> all the ways he’s pictured touching you...being touched…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stepped up to the edge of the circle with a bolt of desperation.  He didn’t want to think about how the demon would twist the secrets Jaskier might have hidden over the years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop,” he ordered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have to say, I truly underestimated the level of creativity a bard has.  If I’d known how many depraved ideas one might create--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t--</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--I would have possessed one a long time ago.”  It grinned at him.  “I’m almost impressed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, I’m begging you.  Leave him out of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you?” the creature drawled, looking bored.  “If you were begging, you’d be on your knees.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a frantic moment, Geralt contemplated doing just that.  Anything to stop this nightmare unfolding around him.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you’d prefer it if I was on my knees instead,” it purred.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Against his will, Geralt’s eyes darted back to the other man’s body as the demon slowly went down on his knees against the dirty barn floor.  With his shirt unlaced and open, it was an image that of Geralt’s most hidden fantasies.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s head tilted in a coquettish look.  “Isn’t this what you both want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.”  Not like this.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Never like this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t have to be a battle, Witcher,” it purred. ”We can enjoy ourselves.  We both know this isn’t the first time Jaskier has spread his legs for another man, don’t we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up about him.”  He moved to the edge of the circle, only barely remembering the reasons why he couldn’t step over and fight the creature across from him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clock’s running out, Witcher.  Pretty soon you won’t have a choice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt went still.  “What are you talking about?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Human hosts were never intended to be long term,” it said with a shrug.  “I’d originally intended to find a new meat suit when I reached Novigrad, but you just couldn’t let me move on.  Now we’re both running out of time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Abruptly, the dark circles under Jaskier’s eyes and the unnatural pallor of his skin took on a sinister edge.  He thought of all of the victims that had been slaughtered on the way to this abandoned barn.  There was no way the demon had bothered to do the bare minimum to keep its host alive and moving.  He doubted it bothered with anything like sleep or even eating, using its stores of chaos to keep itself from collapse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s stronger than you think.”  Even to Geralt’s ears, the protest felt weak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to listen to his blubbering,” the demon complained, dropping its sultry expression to roll its eyes.  “He was so convinced that you were going to rescue him.  It’s a shame he doesn’t realize that you’re going to be the reason his mind finally breaks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t help you hurt him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bold of you to assume that I would need your help doing that.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt opened his mouth to protest, but all thought seemed to disappear as the demon pulled off its doublet with a graceful motion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The movement highlighted the muscles that were so often disguised beneath the vain showboating of the bard.  Jaskier had always enjoyed hiding his intelligence in a way that made it easy for people to overlook him.  He’d said it made it easier for someone to underestimate him.  His body, too, had been a weapon Jaskier preferred to use only when needed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt had pulled the man out of enough barfights to know that Jaskier had left his nobleman’s upbring in his past along with his family title.  His eyes picked out familiar scars that he knew from stolen glances when they’d bathed in rivers and crowded tavern rooms.  It reminded him of the deadly little knives hidden beneath jeweled sheaths and soft smiles.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That powerful body arched in a way that belonged in the darkest of fantasies.  A smirk teased at the edges of Jaskier’s lips and Geralt found himself staring as long, clever fingers toyed with the edge of his pants, baring the paler skin beneath.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No one needs to know about this, Witcher,” it whispered.  “It’s not as though he would have lived long enough for you to experience this first hand.  You should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>thanking</span>
  </em>
  <span> me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We both know that isn’t true.”  Jaskier’s hands reached below the fabric of his pants and his breath hitched.  It gave a soft moan, releasing a slow breath.  “I can give you everything you’ve never dared to take for yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It stared at Geralt with eyes that slowly bled into blue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can give you </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>More demonic shenanigans and Geralt whump.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Geralt stared at the creature trapped behind the barrier he’d carved with his own hands and tried not to think about the way his traitorous heart ached at the thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He licked his lips.  “I already have him,” he said, “until you stole him. Give him back to me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ah, but not in the way you really want.”  The demon tilted his head back in a heady display of the vulnerable skin of his neck and Geralt hated the way his eyes traced the line he’d once dreamed of exploring with his mouth.  “Not in the way you both want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Long artist’s fingers drifted down to trace the front of his pants in a way that was shockingly lewd against the sensuous tone of his voice.  It reminded Geralt too much of the way Jaskier liked to seduce his lovers--as though his voice was as much a weapon as his laughing eyes and wicked mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The word carried none of the threat it normally would and he hated the part of himself that whispered that this might be the only chance to see Jaskier like this.  That after all the mistakes he’d made on the mountain and in the countless years they’d traveled together, Jaskier would never want to be with him the way he wanted.  Not now that he’d seen the difference between a life at the bard’s side and the fantasy of happiness with Yennefer.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try again, Witcher,” it purred.  “Surely you can pretend better than that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want this.”  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That, at least, was mostly true.  He wanted this to be more than a jagged knife in the demon’s hands.  He wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaskier</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And your kind calls </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> liars.”  It tapped a finger against Jaskier’s lips and pouted.  “You would begrudge your poor bardling even this small pleasure at the end of his life?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt glared, furious and helpless all at once.  “I won’t let you kill him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have a choice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re trapped here.  You won’t be able to escape the exorcism.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The demon watched him for a moment before snickering.  “You can’t lie to a liar, darling.  If you knew how to save him, you wouldn’t be standing here talking to me.  You’d have done it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The casual words didn’t match the sinking feeling in his chest.  He’d assumed that the hardest part of saving Jaskier from the demon would be capturing him, but none of the texts he’d managed to find had any solutions for removing one without also killing the host.  Clearly, none of the Witchers or mages that had encountered this type of creature considered it worth the effort.  All they wanted was the demon gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In fact, Geralt was almost certain that the other hunters had purposely killed the host to banish the demon to the infernal plane.  After all, a mortal body was one of the few weaknesses of the otherwise immortal creature.  Their ability to keep their body upright and moving after injury was a useful way to drain their power and slow them enough to bind them to a circle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was exactly the sort of decision Vesemir had trained them to make.  Sacrifice personal safety and desires to protect the needs of weaker mortals.  Fuck, even Jaskier would have agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Geralt won’t be the one who put Jaskier in the ground.  He refused to be another reason for Jaskier’s pain.  It was his fault the stupid, heroic, dumbass of a human had been taken in the first place.  He would not let that be the man’s last mistake.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter that he wasn’t a mage and that Witchers had never been trained to do anything but kill.  Jaskier had been the first to argue time and time again that he was more than the blood staining his hands.  For Jaskier, for his bard and friend, Geralt would prove that he was right.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t matter,” he finally said, steady with the knowledge that his stubbornness would keep Jaskier alive.  “You’ll just stay in the circle until I do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bold of you to put so much faith in my willingness to keep this host alive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt froze--recognizing too late that he should have schooled his features better when the demon’s smile widened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It walked a slow path at the edge of the barrier, looking for all the world like any other bored noble.  “It might even be a relief at this point,” it continued casually, “Even I get tired of the endless sobbing--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--and crying--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“--and </span>
  <em>
    <span>begging--</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“STOP!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It stopped in front of Geralt and smiled, slow and vicious.  “That’s the best part, Geralt.  There’s nothing you can do to make me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll kill you,” Geralt growled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And I’ll kill him.  An even trade, don’t you think?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Geralt turned on his heel and walked out of the barn, sucking in deep lungfuls of open night air.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Behind him, he could hear the demon’s mocking laughter, but he forced himself not to react.  As much as the barrier was designed to keep the creature trapped there, but he was just as bound to it.  Jaskier’s life depended on his commitment to salvaging whatever was left of Jaskier’s body and sending the demon far away from here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Around him, the sounds of night creatures and the wind rifling through the trees seemed to mock him with their calm.  He wanted to scream at the softly calling horned owl in a nearby tree until it went far away from this living nightmare he was trapped in.  Scrubbing his hands through his hair, he forced himself to think through the panic induced rage and recognize that his plan wasn’t going to be enough to save Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wearily, he walked over to where Roach was tied and grazing happily.  She looked unbothered by the business in the barn, but her nostrils flared at the scent of brimstone and ozone that lingered in the air surrounding the demon.  There was no trace left of the sweeter floral notes that usually marked the bard’s presence.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt rifled through the saddle bags leaning against the trees where it was safe from any bad weather.  His fingers traced over a smooth stone tied with a leather thong and bearing the encryption of a familiar rune.  Girding himself for the fight that was coming, Geralt blew a lungful of warm air over the rock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yennefer,” he whispered, pouring as much power as he dared into the word.  “I need your help.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of the woods around him.  Then--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A crackle of energy and the vacuum of air that marked a portal was opening nearby.  He got to his feet, wincing against the brightness of the portal as it burst into life a few yards away.  A moment later, an annoyed looking mage stepped through wearing her usual court attire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt,” she said, looking over him for any sign of injury.  Her lips pursed when she found nothing but desperation.  “I did not give you that so you could--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need your help.  It’s Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer scowled.  “If you’ve brought me here just to drag your bardling away from whatever new noblewoman he’s offended, I will make you beg for the sweet release of death.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The parallel between the demon’s taunt and her description made him wince.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a noblewoman,” he hedged, unsure how to begin this madness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Noble</span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span> then.  Either way, he knows the risks when he--”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a demon.”  Yennefer’s jaw shut with a click and he felt the moment when her focus narrowed dangerously on him.  “He was possessed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?  No demon would ever risk coming anywhere close to a Witcher.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt glared down at the earth, wishing the reality was anything but the curt description coming out of his mouth.  “It was my fault.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He thought he was saving you.”  The words don’t feel any easier when they’re spoken by someone else.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need your help,” he repeated, feeling like he was pulling the words free from his throat.  “I don’t know how to remove the demon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time in his memory, the purple eyed sorceress looked sympathetic.  It sent a bolt of fear through him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Geralt…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he wanted to beg, but all he could do was watch her destroy the last bit of hope he possessed.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t ask me to give up on him.  I can’t.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer proved that she was never the type to back down from even the most intimidating realities.  She gave him the respect of not acknowledging the way he was watching her. “There has never been a successful case of removing a demon from its host.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is it possible though?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer threw up her hands.  “Theoretically anything is possible.  That doesn’t mean it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>probable</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded, looking back toward the barn and clenching his jaw.  A chance was more than he’d gotten in most hunts.  He would make it enough to save Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighed.  “How long has it been?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Two weeks.”  He focused on not visibly perking up at her implicit agreement to help.  “It took me some time to track him and bind him within a circle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you still have the text used to summon it?” she asked briskly.  “Being contained is the least of our worries if you think Jaskier is still in there--demons aren’t exactly known for the care they give to their hosts.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark circles beneath Jaskier’s eyes and the lean, hungry angles of his body was proof enough that she was right.  Suddenly, the blood covering his body held a new, sinister potential.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think he’s injured.”  He reached into the saddlebags to retrieve the carefully wrapped grimoire the ill-fated mage had attempted to use.  It was obvious with the way Yennefer pursed her lips in disgust what she thought of the tome.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, but injuries are what usually kill the hosts.  Even if they manage to avoid being stabbed, they won’t remember things like food and water unless it suits them.” The mage fished a piece of paper out of her small bag and began to write with a stubb of charcoal, listing a series of items she’d need.  “Demons don’t know or don’t care what the limits are for a human body.  They just push the host until it is no longer capable of forward movement and move on to the next.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It already threatened to kill Jaskier if I kept it locked in the barrier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer froze and then pinned him with a look.  “Please tell me you weren’t stupid enough to let it know that you care about the bard.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hesitated and let the silence damn him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gods, Geralt!” she exclaimed, “How could you be that fucking idiotic?  That’s exactly the kind of weapon it will use against you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It wouldn’t have mattered what I did.”  He glared back at her, fighting against his own overwhelming guilt.  “It has access to Jaskier’s memories.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That must be a nightmare.”  At his glare, she made a derisive noise, clearly unmoved.   “A demon would love nothing more than to torture the two of you with everything he knows about your insane relationship.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Less talking.  More saving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She started to snap back at him, but halted when there was a muffled crash within the barn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt didn’t bother to wait for her response.  He threw himself into a run that sacrificed grace for speed and urgency.  A moment later, he slammed into the barn door and threw it open with Yennefer hot on his heels.  He barely paused to take in the sight of the barrier--intact, still shimmering faintly with power--before focusing on the center of the circle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Because there, lying in a crumpled heap, was Jaskier.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Jaskier!” The name felt like it was ripped out of his chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raced across the distance and skidded to his knees beside the circle’s edge.  If he looked closely, he could see the steady rise and fall of his chest that indicated that Jaskier was still breathing.  Geralt reached out across the barrier to try to shake the bard’s shoulder, but Yennefer’s voice cracked like a whip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked back at her.  “He’s hurt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be stupid, Geralt,” she said with a scornful look, “Do you think a demon wouldn’t know how to trick you into believing that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt looked back at Jaskier helplessly, hands clenching into fists against his knees.  The bard’s face furrowed even in unconsciousness, shifting like he was dreaming somehow.  It reminded him painfully of the images that had haunted him every time he closed his eyes.  Of Jaskier bleeding and begging him to save him.  Each of them lingered in his mind until he was sure he’d picked apart every moment for some sign that it wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Like the dream, there was a thin trickle of blood leaking out of a rapidly bruising patch of skin near his hairline.  A few feet away, a broken piece of wood that must have once been connected to the beam overhead was the most likely culprit.  The demon must have tried to pull it down only to get hit hard enough to knock it unconcious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t just leave him like that.”  Staying on this side of the barrier was testing the limits of Geralt’s self control as it was.  “He’s still Jaskier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not right now.  Right now he’s something else.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You said you’d help--not just watch him bleed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer took a step forward, distracted from their bickering.  “He’s waking up,” she said softly, “It’s better if it doesn’t know I’m here.  It might work to our advantage.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt nodded.  “I can’t leave him here alone again--it might decide to injure him more seriously.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine, just….just don’t let it hurt you more than the bard can live with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He silently doubted there was any amount of injury that Jaskier would be satisfied with, but he didn’t protest.  There was no way he would ever be able to repay what he already owed the bard for what he’d done to save Geralt.  Jaskier hadn’t hesitated to put his life on the line then and there was no way Geralt would hide away now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yennefer moved toward the door with her trademark nonchalance.  She looked like she was already busy thinking through the problem at hand, mouth pursed as she considered it.  Being the first mage to successfully remove a demon from its host was the sort of task she would take pleasure in lording over her classmates from Aretuza.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt watched her leave for a moment before looking back in time to see blue eyes flutter and slowly come open.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier blinked up at the ceiling with bleary eyes before frowning a little.  His hand reached up to shakily brush over the cut on his forehead before wincing at the blood staining his forehead.  He stretched out his hand and let his frown deepen when he took in the blood soaked fabric in muddied brown covering him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck…” he breathed, pressing his palm against his eyes like he was trying to block out the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Injuring him isn’t going to make me let you go,” Geralt said, trying for nonchalance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s head snapped toward him with enough speed that he might have thought it was funny in any other circumstances.  Now it was just painful to watch those familiar blue eyes widen in shock, hope, and finally a growing horror.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked around the space, taking in the weathered walls of the barn and scooting to the center of the circle defensively.  He stared at Geralt like he thought his presence was some sort of a trick.  “Geralt?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt narrowed his eyes.  “Did the hit to your head addle your brain?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wh--what are you doing here?” Jaskier whispered, looking increasingly horrified.   His eyes darted around the space like he was looking for an exit.  “You shouldn’t be here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was difficult to remind himself that he wasn’t talking to the man he would willingly walk into the very bowels of hell for.  Not when he looked as rumpled as he always did after a long night of performing.  Geralt forced himself to ignore the twisting sensation in his gut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The fuck I’m about to just let you out of my sight again,” he growled.  “You’re staying in that circle until I rip you out of his head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You-” Jaskier swallowed hard and his eyes returned to Geralt like an addict with a fic, “-You’re trying to save me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt frowned at him, off balance by the seemingly genuine surprise on the demon’s face.  “You know why I’m here.  I’m going to save him--and then I’m going to make you regret ever touching him.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier’s lips twitched into a sad sort of smile.  “Aren’t Witchers supposed to hunt monsters?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier isn’t a monster--he’s a victim.  One I intend to save.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What if...there isn’t anything left to save?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His jaw ached as he clenched his teeth at the thought.  He looked away, refusing to allow the demon to draw out his pain once again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You saw what I’ve done--how many people I’ve killed.  There’s no going back.”  Jaskier looked down at his hands and frowned, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt stared at him, confused by the sorrow lacing his voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked at the way Jaskier was curled in on himself, hand reaching up to tug at the hair that had grown long enough to curl over his ears.  There was something about the way his shoulders were slumped in defeat that didn’t match the cocky, insidious personality of the demon he’d spoken with only a few minutes before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A careful breath confirmed that even if the scent of sulfur was still strong--it was far weaker than it had been when Geralt first contained it in the circle.  His pendant didn’t even give its usual thrum of warning to indicate there was magic at work here aside from what was needed to keep the barrier in place.  If he didn’t know any better, he might think that he was actually looking at and talking to Jaskier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The thought sent a bolt of illicit hope surging in him, refusing to be cowed by his attempts at controlling it.  He wished he hadn’t sent Yennefer away.  Maybe she would be able to give him a way to tell the difference between Jaskier and the creature lurking inside of him.  As it was, he told himself that he needed to ignore the instinctive sensation of guilt at Jaskier’s expression and resist the urge to try to comfort him as he usually would.  It was the only reasonable thing to do at this point.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, when it came to Jaskier, he’d never been good at listening to reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier?” he whispered.  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to banish the hope from his voice.  He edged closer to the barrier, only a few centimeters away from passing over.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blue eyes darted over to him before slanting away again.  His expression shifted--too fast for him to interpret--before he finally gritted out, “You need to leave, Geralt.  Take Roach and don’t look back.  Don’t try to find me again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier.”  There’s relief in the name now and Geralt can’t help but get to his feet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He circled around the barrier until he was only a few inches away from where Jaskier was still curled with his arms around his knees. Jaskier sucked in a sharp breath, but didn’t move further away, leaning slightly toward Geralt like he couldn’t resist the urge to get closer.  He flinched when the barrier touched his skin and the scent of burning flesh filled the air.  It made Geralt want to rip away the carefully carved lines.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jaskier, are you alright?  Are you injured?” he asked, rapid-fire.  “I’m not sure if it hurt you anywhere else while you were under.  Yennefer said that it’s possible that it can ignore injuries that would normally keep a human out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurts</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Jaskier whispered, voice trembling.  A tear hung suspended for a moment on the edge of his eyelashes before dripping down the curve of his cheek.  “Gods, I’ve hurt so many people.  Everytime I close my eyes I can hear them screaming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to make this right, Jaskier.  It wasn’t your fault.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had never been Jaskier’s fault.  He was just a human foolish enough to care about keeping a Witcher safe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just want to go </span>
  <em>
    <span>home</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the bard sobbed brokenly.  He pressed his hands against his eyes like he could force the tears to stop.  “I just want to wake up and this all to be a dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt pressed up against the barrier, looking over his shoulder like he could make Yennefer reappear.  “We’re going to get you out of there.  The demon must be losing his grip if you’re becoming more aware.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jaskier frowned, tilting his head slightly like he was listening to something.  “I can’t sense it any more,” he said, eyes going wide with wonder.  He looked at Geralt for confirmation.  “Maybe it’s gone!  Maybe the hit to my head injured it somehow!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He doubted it would be that easy, but he was loathe to be the reason Jaskier lost hope.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When Yennefer gets back, we’ll be able to test and see.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you have any clothes I could change into?” Jaskier’s nose wrinkled in familiar disgust.  “I smell like you after a hunt.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Geralt released a relieved chuckle and went over to the materials he’d gathered for just such an occasion.  He could feel excitement building in him--the first bit of light he’d seen since he’d first seen Jaskier step willingly into the circle.  “I thought you might feel that way.  After.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he turned back around with Jaskier’s clothes in one hand, he froze in place, staring in horror at the man standing across from him.  His head tilted to one side in a reptilian movement that felt matched the sick feeling growing in his gut.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a pause and then Jaskier’s smile turned cruel and condescending.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t really think it would be that easy did you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>You didn't think it would be that simple, did you?</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let me know what you think and if you’d like me to continue this adventure.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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